It is only a matter of time
by Estana
Summary: Who could have possibly thought that Mycroft Holmes would be able of producing a child? And what would happen if this child, being a suborn, smart-ass teenager, would be assigned to living with (bbc's) Sherlock and his companion? Let's find out... (I'm not sure how to rate this, since I'm still writing, but it's a T for now)
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own any of the characters, only Sanah is my creation.  
**_This is my first upload-thingy on this site, so I don't know how everything works yet. The only way to figure things out, is to try :P _

Chapter one.

I stared at the bypassing cars while my bus rode through busy London. A green one, a red one,

another green one… Life always seemed to go on, no matter what. So many lives were tangled

together, without people even noticing each other. It was weird. So many stories. I wanted to

know them all. I looked at people, looked at the way they behaved, how they talked. I wanted to

know it all. But that day, that first day in London, I wasn't interested in other people. I had enough

problems of my own to think about. Like how I was going to build a new life here, with people I

didn't know. I hoped everything would turn out fine... I got out of the bus at the stop which name

was hastily written on a piece of paper and searched for the man who's name was also on the

paper. John Watson. I looked around, but I didn't see anybody, which startled me. Was I at the

wrong place? Wrong time? But then, I saw an approaching man, a running man. He had blonde hair

and he wasn't very tall, but he had a kind face.

'You must be Sanah,' he said when he was able to breath properly again.

'Yes,' I said, still observing him.

'My name is John Watson ,' he said. 'I'm sorry I'm late, Sherlock was... just being Sherlock.'

'How could Sherlock not be Sherlock?' I wondered.

'Follow me, please,' John said, ignoring my question. Or he just didn't hear it, I didn't know. But I

grabbed my backpack, swung it on my shoulder and followed the man.

London was fascinating. There were a one thousand things happening around me, I didn't know

where to look! So many people, so many things to see. I immediately loved it here. Sometimes I

just stopped to turn around and look again, leaving John wondering what on earth I was doing. But

after a couple of times, he just accepted it and watched me with a smile on his face.

'You'll have plenty of time to look around after dinner,' he eventually said.

'Oh, yes, of course,' I said, ashamed. 'Sorry.'

'That's fine, don't worry about it, but I figured you might want to see the apartment and such.'

'Yes,' I said and hastily followed him.

'221B Baker street,' John said to me when he opened the door of one of the apartments.

'Welcome.'

I followed him as he entered and climbed the stairs. When we entered the room, I saw a man

standing at a desk, searching for something. He looked up when he heard us. Icy blue eyes were

observing me and I observed him. He was tall and his dark curly hair made him look impressive,

like he had a certain authority. And he probably had. I wasn't sure if I liked that, because I was

going to live here for quite a while. But my father apparently thought it was a good idea to send

me over here, to live here with my uncle and his friend.

'So this is the man my father told me about,' I said. 'How come I've never seen you before?'

'Busy life...' Sherlock said, while he went back to doing what he was doing when we entered.

'Speaking of which, John, have you touched my stack of papers? Because everything has been

moved.'

'Well... yes,' John said. 'I wanted to tidy things up a little.'

'Don't ever touch my stack again,' Sherlock said.

After I had put my stuff in my new room, John introduced me to Mrs. Hudson. She was a very nice

old lady, and glad to see me. Because, she said, she was glad that Sherlock had family that cared

enough about him to visit him. I wasn't quite sure what Sherlock had told her, but I just nodded

and smiled at her. Everybody liked people that smiled at them.

During dinner, which John and I cooked together, Sherlock was still busy with some of his papers,

and I didn't really talk with him, but I talked a lot with John. He was a nice guy and I liked to talk to

him. But I was wondering why Sherlock was so quiet, and when I asked John, he shrugged and said

that Sherlock was just thinking about something that he couldn't solve yet. I wondered how it was

possible that the Sherlock Holmes had trouble solving something, but it was daily business

apparently.

'He will figure it out eventually,' John said.

That evening, while John was reading a book and Sherlock was just staring into nowhere, I walked

over to Sherlock's stack of papers and started reading the one on top. Sherlock didn't notice it, he

was just thinking about something difficult, I could see it. So I started rumbling through the

papers.

'What are you doing?' Sherlock asked when he noticed what I was doing.

'I was bored,' I said. 'This looked interesting. What does this mean?'

'Don't touch my stuff!'

'But -'

'Don't!'

'Fine...' I mumbled, walking back to my chair. 'So what should I do now?'

'Shut up,' Sherlock said.

I tried to stay in my chair, but I didn't quite succeed. You must know that I sometimes seem to have

too much energy, and sometimes way too less. This was one of the times that I had too much, so I

started walking back and forth. If this was the way I would spend every evening from now on, I

would go crazy. This wasn't my cup of tea. I sat down again with a sigh. Boring. But suddenly,

Sherlock jumped up from his chair with a big grin on his face.

'I found it!' he happily said. 'I found it, John!'

'That's great,' John said, putting away his book. 'So we can tell Mrs. Grenley that her husband's

murderer has been found?'

'Yes. We've got to visit Mr. Jones,' Sherlock said, putting on his coat.

'Can I join you?' I asked, smelling an adventure.

'No.'

'Please?'

'No.'

'Please?'

But Sherlock didn't answer anymore, he just turned around and walked away, with John following

him.

'Don't stay up,' John said with a smile. 'And try not to mess up Sherlock's papers, it'll freak him

out.'

'Fine...' I mumbled. 'Bye.'

And they left, I heard them walking down the stairs. As soon as I heard the door close, I ran over to

my room, grabbed my coat and ran to the door. I wasn't going to wait for them to get home, I

wanted to do something myself. Maybe I could even help them!

'Where are you going, dear?' Mrs Hudson asked when I ran down to the front door. 'They told me

to keep an eye on you.'

'I'm just going outside for a walk,' I said. 'Some fresh air will be good for me. I'll be right back.'

'Allright, but be careful,' she said.

'Yeah, sure,' I mumbled while opening the door and peeking on the street to see if Sherlock and

John would be able to see me. I saw that they were just passing the corner on my left and I

stepped outside to follow them. I was lucky that Baker street was a crowded place so I could easily

stay unnoticed. Their destination wasn't far away apparently, because they didn't take a cab. I

kept following them like a shadow. Well, not quite like a shadow, since I almost tripped over a

loose stone. But that didn't matter because they didn't notice me. The sun was already going

down, causing the street to look a lot darker than during daylight. That worked in my advantage, of

course, but it also made it harder to keep an eye on Sherlock and John. When the former rang the

bell of one of the houses in the street, after a 15 minute's walk, I hid myself in some alley, behind

a trashcan. But suddenly, I saw a police car stopping in front of the house. The man inside the car

got out, and walked over to the alley where I was hiding! I pushed myself against the trashcan to

stay invisible. If he saw me, that would be disastrous, what if he told my father? But he didn't see

me, he just hid behind another trashcan. Then, suddenly, I heard the sound of breaking glass and a

scream.

'Lestrade, now!'

That voice sounded an awful lot like Sherlock's voice. The man behind the other trashcan jumped

up and blocked the exit of the alley. Then I heard a lot of footsteps. The feet that were producing

those footsteps were moving in a really fast way. Just when the producers of the sound was about

to appear in sight (they had to pass a corner), I felt something move beside my feet. I looked

down, to see two glowing eyes next to me. A rat. I was a very brave girl, but when it was about

rats, I was a sissy. I screamed and jumped up, forgetting about the man named Lestrade and why I

even was in that alley. I tripped over my own feet and fell against the policeman. He also

screamed and fell on the ground. At that very moment, a man, Sherlock and John passed the

corner.

'Don't let him escape!' Sherlock screamed, but it was too late. The lean man who they were

chasing jumped over me and the man and crossed the street, almost getting hit by a car. Sherlock

followed him, but John stopped. He looked down on me and Lestrade with confusion written on

his face.

'Sanah?'

'Hi,' I said.

John first pulled me on my feet again, and then Lestrade.

'Do you know this girl?' the angry policeman asked John.

'I'm sorry,' I said.

John was about to say something, but then, we heard a happy voice.

'I've got him!' Sherlock said, appearing in sight again. He was dragging along the lean man. 'Let me

introduce you to Mr. Jones!'

'How did you know it was him who murdered Mr. Grenley?' Lestrade asked.

'Oh, that was very easy...' Sherlock said, but he suddenly saw me. 'What is she doing here?'

I was staring at my shoes, but I knew everybody was looking at me, including Mr. Jones.

'Well... I...' I mumbled. 'I...'

'... was curious and didn't want to listen to what you told me,' Sherlock said, finishing my

sentence.

'Well...'

'And so, you've brought this whole operation in danger,' Sherlock continued.

'I didn't know!' I said. 'That isn't fair!'

'Nothing in this world is fair, missy,' Mr. Jones mumbled.

Lestrade, mr. Jones and Sherlock went to Scotland Yard, while John brought me home.

'Oh, finally, you're home, dear!' Mrs. Hudson said when we entered the house. 'I've been so

worried, you were gone for such a long time! What happened?'

'Sanah thought it was necessary to interfere in our businesses,' John said.

'That isn't true...' I mumbled, knowing nobody would listen anyway.

John spend the rest of the evening reading a book.

'I'm sorry,' I said after a while.

'I know, it doesn't matter,' John said. 'It ended how we originally planned it to end, so don't

apologise to me. Though Sherlock might want to hear an apology.'

'Why?'

'I wouldn't know, but I don't know how Sherlock's mind works,' he said.

So I waited for Sherlock to get home, not knowing what to expect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two.**

When Sherlock got home, he was in a weird state of euphoria, being so happy that he caught that

murderer. So practically, there was nothing to be afraid of. He just mumbled something about

annoying teenagers, but that was that.

'So what's he going to do now?' I asked John when Sherlock couldn't hear us. 'I mean, he solved

the case...'

'I don't know,' John said. 'But I hope another case comes around very soon, otherwise... be

prepared for the worst.'

I didn't know what 'the worst' was, but it must've been something bad, because John didn't seem

very happy about it. But Sherlock apparently thought it was time to be a show-off.

'So Sanah,' he said. 'Why did they kick you out of private school?'

'They didn't,' I said.

'Yes, they did.'

'How do you know?' I asked. But I did my research before entering this building, so I knew

Sherlock had some weird kind of... knowing stuff. Deducing, as it apparently is called. But it

couldn't be true that this was deduceable.

'I saw it,' Sherlock said.

'How?' I asked, getting curious.

'When you first entered, I saw you carrying a bag with the emblem of school. A boarding school. So

why did you leave that school? Nobody would leave a boarding school, especially not such an

expensive one, in the middle of the year. So the reason why you left must've been urgent. Maybe

one of your family members died, but why would you come here then? It also isn't that your

father didn't have enough money, because... well... he's Mycroft. And another reason might be

that you were being bullied at school. But you stepped into this room with your head held high

and back straightened, without the anxiousness of a bullied person. So you must've been

expelled.

That wasn't that difficult. Now, the only question left is: why did they expel you?'

I blinked, wondering how this was possible. But, after all, this was Sherlock Holmes, and maybe I

should've been prepared.

'They expelled me because I - eh - I set my roommate's hair on fire,' I admitted.

'But not on purpose!' I added when I noticed they were staring at me. 'I was just... doing an

experiment, and she got too close to the fire.'

'That's a nice way of getting expelled,' Sherlock said.

I nodded. 'You can only get expelled once, so when you do it, do it the right way.'

After that, it was time to go to bed. My other stuff would be delivered tomorrow, so I had packed

only the things that I thought I would really need in my bag. But when I was laying in my bed,

curled up to stay warm, I realised I had forgotten something. My hairbrush. So tomorrow, my hair

would be a mess. I sighed and hoped my box with stuff would be delivered in the morning.

When I entered the living room the next morning - with my hair being a mess - I saw that my

boxes were already delivered. I smiled and started to move them into my bedroom. The first few

boxes weren't very heavy, but the last one was.

'Sherlock, could you help me with this one?' I asked, since John wasn't home apparently.

'No,' Sherlock said, without even looking at me.

'Why not?'

'I don't want to.'

I sighed. 'Fine.'

So I started pushing the box into my room, but it really was too heavy.

'Sherlock... can you please help me?' I desperately asked.

'What?' Sherlock asked; he had apparently forgotten about me.

'Can you please help me? This box is too heavy for me.'

'No.'

'Pretty please?'

Sherlock sighed and got up.

'Fine, but only because I want you to shut up,' he said.

'Well, thank you very much,' I said, rolling my eyes.

So I already started to lift the box, waiting for Sherlock to help me. But the box slipped out of my

hands, which made me fall backwards. I hit some sort of table and catapulted a book. The book

flew across the room and hit Sherlock against his head, which made him stumble back and trip

over the coffee table.

'Humpf,' was the only noise Sherlock made when he hit the ground.

'Oh my...' I said, running over to Sherlock. 'I'm so sorry! Are you ok?'

'Yes, I'm totally fine,' he said while getting up again, ignoring my outstretched hand.

'But your head is bleeding!' I noticed. 'Where do you keep your bandages?'

'Somewhere in the kitchen...' he moaned with his hand against his head.

I ran over to the kitchen and opened the first cabinet I could find. Nothing, only an enormous

spider. So I opened the next one. Food. I sighed.

'Ice,' Sherlock said. 'I need ice, or my head will swell.'

'Why don't you get it yourself?' I sighed, still looking for the bandages.

'You are the one that hurt me,' Sherlock said.

'Yes, of course,' I mumbled. 'But next time, you can get it yourself.'

But then, I saw the first-aid-box. It was standing on top of the bookcase. So I grabbed a chair and

climbed on it. I reached for the box, but the chair was quite wobbly. I tried to remain in balance,

but when my fingers touched the box, I fell backwards with a scream.

'Hurry up!' was the only thing Sherlock said.

'But -' I protested. 'I'm hurt now too, my arm hurts.'

Even though my arm didn't like it, I got up and climbed on the chair again. I had to get that box.

The chair was still very wobbly, but I was prepared this time! I made sure that my right hand got

grip on the bookcase while I reached for the box with my left hand. I almost touched the box

again, but this time, the chair decided to just fall over. But I wasn't planning on falling again, so I

remained my grip on the bookcase. That wasn't quite the best decision, because that way, I was

left stuck, hanging on the side of the case.

'Crap,' I mumbled.

At that very moment, John entered the room.

'What on earth is going on?' he said when he saw me hanging on the bookcase and Sherlock still

holding his hand against his head.

'Eh... hi?' I said.

'I leave you two alone for just one hour..! Look at that mess!' John mumbled while walking over to

the bookcase. 'And how are we going to get you down again?'

'Just place the chair beneath my feet and hold it?' I suggested.

'Yes, good idea,' John said, doing what I had suggested.

When I had my two feet steady on the ground again - with the first-aid-box in my hands -, I

walked over to Sherlock and gave him the box.

'So,' I said. 'Have fun with it.'

'I didn't even know we had a first-aid-box,' Sherlock said, glancing at the box.

'Well, I thought it would be useful,' John said. 'You know, with having you around. It has been

standing there for months.'

'Really? Interesting,' Sherlock said. 'Now, could somebody please get my ice...?'

Sherlock sounded quite irritated, so John hurried over to the kitchen to get what Sherlock asked for.

'And what did we learn today...' John mumbled, 'never leave those two alone. It will go wrong.'

'Sorry,' I said. Sorry: the word I had said a lot since I had moved in here. And there were probably a lot more sorry's laying ahead.

**-  
So guys. What do you think so far? Because I'd like to get some reviews to improve my writing. ****I like to improve :p  
I hope you enjoy whatever I write, if anybody of you actually reads it xD  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sherlock was grumpy for the rest of the day, even when he walked over to the kitchen to do some

of his experiments. I tried not to come too close to the kitchen, because I was sure I would set

something on fire or at least ruin Sherlock's experiments. So I just grabbed the nearest book and

started reading it, I giggled as I saw that I was reading the book that had hit Sherlock's head. John

was also reading a book. The silence was disturbed when someone knocked on our door.

'Come in, Mycroft,' Sherlock said. 'I recognized the sound of your feet on the stairs.'

'How?' I asked.

'Everybody's got their own way of walking,' Sherlock said.

The door opened, and my father entered.

'Hi dad,' I said with a smile. I hadn't seen him for months, he was always too busy with his work. I

got up and hugged him. 'It's good to see you again.'

'Hello Sanah,' dad said, smiling back at me.

'So,' Sherlock said, getting up from his chair at the kitchen table. 'What are you doing here?'

'I just came to check if everything turned out right,' dad answered. 'And to discuss some other

things about Sanah's stay.'

'Fine,' Sherlock said. 'Discuss them with John, I'm busy.' He turned around and walked back to his

chair.

'No, I want to talk to you. In private. Outside,' dad said, pointing towards the door with his

umbrella. Always the umbrella. Always. Stupid umbrella.

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Ok then.' He got up, grabbed his coat and walked towards

the door, waiting for his brother to follow him. But dad didn't follow him yet, he said something to

John. He spoke very quietly, so I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I was sure it was about me.

How? They were both looking at me, and eventually, John nodded. After that, dad followed

Sherlock down the stairs.

'What did he say about me?' I asked John.

'Nothing,' John said, not even looking up from his book. But I knew he was lying.

'Don't lie.'

'I'm not lying.'

'Yes you are.'

'No I'm not.'

'Come on,' I sighed. 'You can't fool me: you're lying. What did he say?'

'Allright,' John sighed, putting away his book. 'He told me to keep an eye on you. That's all.'

I snorted. Like John was the first one to hear that he had to "keep an eye on me". And none of

those who had heard that, ever succeeded. Nobody was able to keep me down in my seat,

watching the world pass by. No, don't be silly. I had to be free, able to spread my wings and fly, if

you allow me to be poetic for a moment. But dad wanted me to be safe. Safe was boring. But also

dangerous, as dad must've thought.

'And he also said I can't go outside?' I guessed.

'Exactly.'

'Crap,' I mumbled. I was getting quite curious about what dad had to discuss with Sherlock. It was

something I wasn't allowed to hear, apparently. So what was I going to do now? Continue reading?

No, I was sure I couldn't concentrate on what I was reading. Maybe Mrs. Hudson could use some

help with something. So I went to her room and knocked the door. When she opened the door, a

smile appeared on her face and she almost dragged me inside.

'Hello dear!' she said. 'How are you? I was about to start baking cookies, do you want to join me? I

could use some help.'

Scary. As if she could read my mind.

I spend the rest of the day at Mrs. Hudson's, listening to what she said. She tended to talk a lot,

but sometimes remembered to ask me some questions. I answered her questions, which made

her blurt out some story about "the old days". But that was fine. She asked me to stay for lunch,

and I stayed. After lunch, we took the cookies out of the oven and waited for them to cool down.

'Hi,' I said when I entered the room. John hadn't moved, he was still reading his book. 'Do you

want a cookie? They're fresh.'

'Yes, I'd love one,' John answered, so I shared my cookies with him.

'Is Sherlock already home?' I asked.

'Yeah, he's in his room.'

'Do you think he would like a cookie?'

'I don't think so,' John laughed. 'He'd probably eat you if you'd even think about disturbing him.'

'Okay,' I shrugged. I didn't like being disturbed either, when I was doing something important, so I

understood why Sherlock didn't want me to come into his room right now.

I heard voices in the living room. John and Sherlock's voices. No happy voices. They were having

some sort of argument. I was laying in my bed, and listening to the sounds that were surrounding

me. But I tried to sleep, without success so far. So I got out of bed to drink some water, and when I

stepped out of my room, I heard John say my name. I got curious. I couldn't help it. I sneaked up to

the door to the living room, laying my ear on the surface.

'... she has to go,' Sherlock said. 'I don't like her.'

'That's nonsense!' John answered. 'Why shouldn't you like her? She's so much alike you!'

'What? She's _nothing_alike me. She's clumsy -'

'She was just unfortunate.'

'- she's annoying, she wants to know _everything_. Also things that don't concern her.'

'Oh, now I see, she indeed is _nothing_like you,' John said, sounding really sarcastic.

'And then Mycroft...' Sherlock lowered his voice, so I could only hear a few words. '... take care of

her... more things to do... protect her...'

'Come on, Sherlock,' John sighed. 'Just give it a shot.'

'I'm going to my room,' Sherlock said.

I, meanwhile, had gotten a bit angry. How could he say that, he didn't even know me! I swung

the door open, to the visible surprise of John. Sherlock, however, didn't look really surprised.

'So,' I said, looking at Sherlock. 'You are already giving up on me, aren't you?'

'Eh, Sanah,' John said. 'How much did you hear?'

'Enough,' I said, keeping my glance at Sherlock. He stared back. 'Now answer my question,

Sherlock.'

'Sanah, Sherlock is just being childish, nothing's going to happen, go back to bed,' John said.

'Neh,' I said, still looking at my uncle. 'Sherlock?'

'Don't you get it?' Sherlock said, rising from his chair. 'I see, you really don't get it. Mycroft wants

us both to be safe. He doesn't want us to do something dangerous. He wants to keep an eye on us

both. In what better way could he do that than putting us both in one house? And I refuse to be

Mycroft's dog, doing whatever he says.'

I closed my eyes and sighed. 'And that's the only reason you don't want me here?'

'Oh, no, don't be silly. I've got plenty more,' Sherlock said. 'Would you like to hear some?'

'No thank you.'

'But Sherlock,' John said. 'We can't just kick her out of the house.'

'Can't we?' Sherlock asked.

'Do you really think that -' John started, but changed his mind in the middle of the sentence. 'Of

course you think so. That's ridiculous!'

'No, that's fine,' I said. 'I'll leave.'

This was supposed to be a test, to see if Sherlock would really let me leave. But he didn't say a

word to stop me. I grabbed my bag, put the most important stuff into it and swung it on my back. I

turned around and saw a mirror. I looked at my dark, curly hair and light coloured eyes. The shape

of my face was different from Sherlock's, but was I really nothing alike him? Oh well. I could live

without Sherlock. I could live without my dad. I didn't care. At least, that's what I told myself, and I

didn't allow myself to think differently. I turned around and walked down the stairs, ignoring

John's voice telling me to come back.

It was dark and rainy outside. I tried to make myself as small as I could, like people do when they

hide from the wind. There was barely anybody outside. I walked around a bit, without really

noticing or caring about where I went. Maybe I had to phone my dad. But he would only tell me to

go back to 221B. So I didn't phone him. At a certain point, I started wondering where I was. I

looked around, searching for a sign to show me where I was. The only thing I learned was that this

wasn't quite the best neighbourhood.

'Excuse me,' some shaggy voice said, accompanied by a hand on my shoulder. 'Are you lost?'

'Eh, no,' I said. I didn't trust this man at all.

'You do look like you're lost,' he whispered, getting way too close. This guy started to creep me

out.

'Go away.'

He didn't answer. Instead, he put his hand on my mouth, lifted me, and dragged me along. I

screamed, but nobody could hear me. I tried to kick the man, but I couldn't hit him. He entered

some ally and pushed me against the wall.

'Help!' I screamed on the top of my lungs.

'Come on, darling,' the man whispered, putting his cheek against my cheek. 'Play along.'

I was getting really scared. I tried to hurt him, but it didn't work, he was way too strong.

'Let her go,' a dominant voice suddenly said. A voice I recognized, even though I had only heard it

a couple of times. Sherlock. And with Sherlock, my hope returned. The man was distracted, so I

managed to struggle free from his grasp.

'And who are you?' the man asked, turning away from me and facing Sherlock.

'Sherlock Holmes,' my uncle said, standing there, proud and untouchable as always.

'And why should I listen to you?' the man said, approaching Sherlock.

'Because I won't hurt you too bad if you do what I say,' he said.

The man laughed and pulled out a knife, which he put against Sherlock's throat.

'Not so tough anymore now, huh?' the man said, but before he even finished his sentence,

Sherlock had grabbed his arm and had turned the man around with his arm on his back.

'I'll warn you for the last time: leave,' Sherlock said, without even trying to hide his disgust for the

man. But the man tried to struggle free, but he didn't succeed. I laughed. Now he knew in what

kind of awful position he had brought me a few moments ago. Sherlock sighed and hit the man

against his head. The guy fell down, and I ran over to him. I stepped on his hand and took his knife

away. The creep started to understand that this was a battle he couldn't win, so he hastily got up

and ran away.

'Thank you,' I said to Sherlock.

'You're welcome,' he answered. 'Are you coming home?'

I smiled. I felt that he had accepted me, even though he didn't like to. But he had accepted me,

even though I knew that he didn't like me. Yet. But I was determined to change that fact.

**Hooray, another chapter. ****What do you think so far? Because I'd like to get some reviews to improve my writing. ****I like to improve :p  
I hope you enjoy whatever I write, if anybody of you actually reads it xD**  



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